


Massage

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kink Meme, M/M, Massage, Non-Consensual Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 09:17:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: https://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=1591200#cmt1591200Grindelwald has Graves give him a massage





	Massage

He starts with the shoulders. Slow, fingers barely moving, cringing at every brush of skin. Slick with oil, a feeble barrier against skin contact. Graves knows he can't afford this, knows what's at stake. Compared to all of the other degrading acts he's been forced into at the other mans hands, this is nothing.

But it's so intimate. Grindelwald has taken him to another room, and he hates himself for the momentary gratitude he feels for his captor. He's on a seat, a cushioned stool, for what feels like the first time in months. Graves wants to cry.

He can feel Grindelwald getting impatient beneath him, and forces himself to knead deeper. Graves tells himself not to vomit at the man's exaggerated, overly sexual moans, slightly muffled by the leather chaise he's draped himself on. He can get through this. He's the director of security for God's sake, he can do this. He takes advantage of his short-lived motivation boost to travel lower down the back. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine he's somewhere else, doing this to someone else, someone he wouldn't mind. Someone he might enjoy.

"Put your back into Percy, I'm stressed. I need some compensation for my hard work. This job isn't easy, you know,"

Even from behind Graves knew Grindelwald was smirking. He looked at the ornate ceiling to distract himself, tracing the swirls with his eyes and resisting the overwhelming temptation to just grab that candlestick and-

"Come on Percy, don't I deserve it? If you don't feel up to it, I'm sure there's some others that would do a better job. That little sad boy, he had long fingers. Beautiful lips too. Don't look at me like that, I know all about your little alley meetings, you wanted that too. Here's a thought: aren't you a little lonely in there? Are you sure you wouldn't want some company?"

Graves gritted his teeth while Grindelwald writhed beneath him, putting on a show to further embarrass him. But it didn't matter, as long as the boy was safe. He was low on the mans body now, running fingers deep into creases on his lower back, before sliding up back to unknotting his shoulders. His body was taut and tightly coiled, like a spring. Pale skin, almost white, shone in the dim room, candlelight flickering ominous shadows onto the wall across. Of course, given the dark wizards province at handless magic, the foreboding shadows were most likely cruel tricks, a minor psychological torment. There he was, distracted again.

"Oh God baby, don't stop don't stop! Right there sweetheart! Keep going! Ohh Lord"

Graves' earlier plan had changed. He was now content to beat himself to death with the candlestick, as killing the wizard wouldn't be enough to wipe those godawful sounds from his mind.

"Don't keep me waiting baby, you know how crazy I get for you!" Grindewald's saccharine sing song voice was masking the threat lying beneath his words, and Percival realised that once again, his hands were paused while he thought. On instinct, he almost apologised, but managed to stop himself in time.

Finally, after about an hour, he was finished. The other man grinned lazily up at him, prodding for a reaction. Percival couldn't control the twitch of his lip, disgust overpowering him at the man's bare chest, still oiled from the overspill. Grindelwald sat up, stretched comically over the chair in what Graves considered an obtuse reminder of the power situation at hand, and sauntered out of the door. As he went, he swept off the towel and tossed it at Graves face. All he could do was wipe away the massage oil from his face and watch the ass in front of him swing from side to side. He was a simple man at heart, never one to deny simple pleasures.

Graves collapsed onto the chaise while he still had access to furniture, and it could have been the sleep deprivation, but he heard that deep, accented cadence swim through the corridors towards him.

"Darling, was that as good for you as it was for me?"

He didn't have to see his face to know that he'd be smirking.


End file.
